<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Lurker by StarryNighty</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330364">Lurker</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNighty/pseuds/StarryNighty'>StarryNighty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Black Reader, Black female reader - Freeform, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:08:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,750</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNighty/pseuds/StarryNighty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is from an old WIP mixed with the book-club prompt for 500 words: </p><p>A character arrives early to a group gathering and there is only one other character there</p><p>“It’s a long story.” </p><p> </p><p>Warnings: 18+, stalking, non-con, assault, seclusion, anxiety. This is a dark story, please proceed with caution.</p><p>A/N: Thank you @titty-teetee for reading through this for me &lt;3  I love ya! Also this story is inspired by Tyler, a song by Toadies.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lurker</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>Oh God, not again.</em> <b><br/></b></p><p>You dropped the black bag of kitchen trash on the grass and stared at the unkempt flower bed near your bedroom window. Boot prints, large ones, imprinted in the red dirt of stomped down bluegrass and milkweeds.</p><p>Your eyes drifted up to the widow, and then to the crack in your curtain within your room. </p><p>He was watching<em>, lurking.</em></p><p>Your eyes dropped back down to the dirt. A cool chill ran through you. </p><p>You thought this was over. It had been months since the last incident. Even with security cameras, motion sensors, the creep still managed to bypass your boundaries. He compromised your safety.</p><p>You bent down and snatched the head of the bag off the ground. Continuing to walk along your fenced yard your mind wondered. Was he watching now? What did he see last night? How long had he been watching?</p><p>You came to the door of the fence. Eight foot chain link attached to equally tall wood fence. Fingers flicked the latch and then tangled in the wire links. When it started to swing open you caught a color. Within the hinge, trapped between metal, a piece of orange fabric laid limp. </p><p>Not from you. Why would any of your clothes make their way to such a curious spot? It was from him. You pulled it out, scanned the piece between your fingers and tried to imagine what kind of man could be doing this. </p><p>Your friends were right. You needed a break. And not just a few hours at the shooting range as Bucky had suggested. Or a day shopping as Wanda was prone to bring up. Steve mentioned a gathering at the lake. Your mind broke off from staring at the thread count of the shirt and imagined crisp water, tall grass, and fresh air away from this house. </p><p>And away from your uninvited visitor.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Window rolled down, music softly bumped as muggy wind blew in over your damp skin. Your mind focused on the dirt road ahead, sometimes you took in the thick bowers of mesquite and tall cedar trees that lined the soft soiled road. <b><br/></b></p><p>A voice carried up from the radio – <em>We can drive to any place</em> and you took a deep breath of the thick air whipping around your face. For one heat filled, clothes sticking to every part of your body moment, there was peace.</p><p>A calm of sorts too when the gust tangled in your neck line and cooled your back. Your eyes cut up to the rear view mirror momentarily and felt grateful that still, no one was following you.</p><p>And when you finally found the overgrown trail, fit for a single vehicle at a time, relief swept over you. </p><p>Finally you were away from towns, people, and that visitor.</p><p>You drove another thirty minutes into the woods with timber stretching to the sky, where overgrowth entangled anything that didn’t move. It would have been intimidating if you didn’t already feel the weight of gratitude for the peace it offered. </p><p>And at the end of the trail a few cabins sat swallowed by nature. They looked old but maintained enough for a few nights’ retreat. </p><p>You must have been early, you thought absentmindedly and parked near a clump of bushes. There was only one other vehicle, a big black truck. Steve. </p><p>You gathered all your bags and started walking toward the biggest cabin. And when you walked in it appeared that Steve had gone about freshening the place up. The cabin appeared to be the common area of the group, with a decent kitchen and old mismatched furniture on the other side for a living room. But boxes were stacked near the back door, and as you walked to the kitchen a few cabinets hung open with new canned goods and supplies. </p><p>You added your own small pile in a grocery bag to the counter and sat your things right where you stood. </p><p>
  <em>Where was everybody?</em>
</p><p>The question was clear as day in your mind so you walked out of the back door, down a small path toward the sound of shallow water dashing away.</p><p>There beyond the weeds of  cat tails fuzzy tops sat Steve. In the late afternoon sun, perched on a low plastic chair, he loosely held a fishing pole toward the deepest, stillest part of the river.</p><p>You looked around the small grove. Only one other chair was there, a small cooler, and what looked to be a bait and tackle box.</p><p>Steve turned his head toward you and looked from under the brim of his cap. </p><p>“It’s a long story.” he said, and gave you a small regretful grin.</p><p>He turned back to the water, reeled in the line with a few clicks before he spoke again. </p><p>“I guess days got mixed up, looks like it’s just you and me.”</p><p>You shrugged slightly and moved further into the flattened grass. </p><p>“Take a seat, grab a pole.” said Steve and gestured to the tree to his right. You took up his suggestion and went for it, then grabbed the other chair and sat down near him.</p><p>“So how was the ride?” he asked, not looking at you.</p><p>You thought about the drive, the peace, the distance from your house. “It was beautiful. I’m glad to be out here for a bit.” you sighed.</p><p>Noting the relief in your tone, Steve looked over at you. “Still dealing with that?”</p><p>You nodded, baited your hook with a worm quietly.</p><p>“Damn. It’s strange though.” he said, turning back to the water. “I have to think a man like that is just so occupied with you that getting caught doesn’t deter him.”</p><p>“I wish he’d fuck off.” you mumbled.</p><p>Steve didn’t look over. His body jerked with a silent chuckle. “That’s not going to work,” he added.</p><p>“Man like that isn’t going to be happy until he gets what he wants.”</p><p>The heat of the sun beat down on you but a cold chill ran down the length of your spine. The worry was back. The fear of threat had returned to the point that in that moment the only thing you could think of was the day the creep caught up with you.</p><p>“Don’t worry.” said Steve, his fingertips grazed the top of your left knee. “You’re safe.”</p><p>You talked yourself down from the heavy thoughts and concentrated on the water. As it rushed away in the busier parts of the river so with it the image of the tattered cloth. </p><p>Yes. You were safe here.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I’m not eating fish eggs!” you laughed and kicked back another shot of rum. <b><br/></b></p><p>Steve shook his head with a smile as he washed the fish in the sink of the cabin. “It’s not that bad.” he said.</p><p>“Well, it’s all yours.”</p><p>Steve stood back from the basin, his grey shirt covered in scales and dots of fish blood he wiped his hands on a towel. </p><p>“I’ll take whatever you give me.” he said and took off his cap.</p><p>You pushed off the counter toward a cast iron pan hanging on the wall. Warmed all the way through, and slightly buzzed you sat it down on the small stove top. </p><p>“I need to go change.” said Steve from behind you. </p><p>And when you turned around with a sarcastic whip in mind you stalled. Steve was a feet from you, shirt off, skin moist staring back at you.</p><p>You nodded feebly and quickly averted your eyes away back to the task at hand.</p><p>“I’ll get this started.” you said softly.</p><p>“The seasoning is in the last drawer,” he said, from further away. But you refused to turn back in case your wondering eyes decided to look further.</p><p>You moved toward the drawer. “Hopefully it’s more than just salt.” you said cheerfully.</p><p>“Ah, don’t be an ass.” He was close again. </p><p>Steve stood on your right, from the corner of your eyes he approached with long strides until he was within your space. </p><p>You grabbed a few containers and stood up with a few clutched under your arm, and more in your hands. And Steve, the tall broad shouldered super soldier was within an inch of you.</p><p>“Your the-” you stared as your eyes drifted down to his shirt.</p><p>In a flash the color ignited the memory of the fabric stuck in your fence. </p><p>“Cat got your tongue?” he said and smiled.</p><p>Steve pried the small bottles of seasoning from under your arm, he walked around and with him your eyes continued over his shoulders, down his wide back to a tear at the hem of his shirt.</p><p>Fear rattled through your throat. “Your–” you said with a shaky voice. “Your–shirt, it’s torn.” </p><p>Steve nodded, blond strands dangled down his temple. “It’s an old one. I bought it after I got out of the ice. Odd that you ask-”</p><p>His motions stilled near the counter on the other side of the stove. With a lazy nod, he slowly sat down the spices.</p><p>“It’s-” Steve didn’t have time to finish that sentence. You dropped the bottles in your hands and grabbed the iron pan. </p><p>You swung strong. Steve pushed forward with the crack of the pan meeting the soft skin at the back of his neck and head. Your brain was filled with terror and the fog of booze but somehow your feet moved, followed by your legs as you turned tail to run. </p><p>No matter the plans that popped up into your mind as you ran past the counter. Get out, run for your ride, get out, run, don’t stop. Get out. They nosedived deeper into your fear– spiraled down, plunged right into your chest as you fought the cold realization of the floor falling from under your feet. </p><p>Steve stopped you fast in your tracks. He wrapped his arms around your back, covered your shoulders with his mass that threatened to buckle your kneecaps. </p><p>No screams from you. Just short bursts of yelps, helpless grunts as you struggled with his heavy sweaty arms.</p><p>Your legs scrambled beneath on the rough wooden floor. Twisting your hips you countered the grip he had on your right wrist enough to pop your body out of his grasp. The tethered freedom did not last long. As you ran and reached for the knob of the front door, Steve yanked you by the wrist jerking you back toward him hard.</p><p>He shoved you into the counter spilling your bag of supplies, your bottle of rum to the floor. Steve leaned his body into yours preventing any more real movement on your part. Instead you squirmed, refused to look at him and tried to hold back tears.</p><p>His hot breath fanned down to you. </p><p>“I’m really here…” Steve whispered.</p><p>His hands moved to either side of the counter boxing you in and ducked his face near yours. Still refusing to look at him Steve grabbed you by the jaw and forced you to turn your head. </p><p>“Aren’t I? I’m here with you, finally. All to myself I got you.” he said breathlessly, his eyes moved down your face to your lips as his other hand began the small creep up your arm.</p><p>Your lips barely moved when you tried to speak. “Why are you doing this…” you asked with a broken voice.</p><p>“I love watching you. You’re different when no one is around.”</p><p>Steve leaned in quickly and pushed his nose against your cheek as he spoke. “Sweetheart, you smell so good.” he groaned.</p><p>You choked out a sob. Steve hushed across your skin as his hand dropped to your neck. “At first it was enough to see you. Watch you.” </p><p>Steve’s voice dropped as his other hand, the fingers scratched under your thin shirt. “I imagined being in your life. Just you and me,” he kissed your cheek.</p><p>“-waiting for me,” </p><p>You jerked your head away from his lips but he pulled you back to him. “Naked under the sheets,” he said on your lips and then kissed you.</p><p>His beard scrapped across your chin, the edges of the delicate skin around your lips. </p><p>Steve groaned low as his hand dropped from your face, down your body and yanked your shirt over your head breaking the kiss.</p><p>“Dates? Boring.” he said with a tight grin. </p><p>You tried to cover yourself as Steve pulled at the top of your shorts. “It’s not fun. It’s more exciting like this..”</p><p>You shook your head, tears fell down your cheeks as you tried to turn your near naked body from his gaze.</p><p>Steve pulled off his shirt, jerked his pants down and kicked them away. “Don’t be shy, honey.” he said gently. He stepped back to you and brushed his knuckle over your lips. “I’ve already seen most of you.”</p><p>You lifted your chin and leered at him. “The others will know! You won’t get aw-”</p><p>Steve forced another kiss, wet and messy keeping you from talking. He pulled your hands down to his crotch and pushed his length into one of your hands. “Touch it honey–” he licked the inside of your top lip. “I’m going to fuck you with it soon.”</p><p>You attempted to please him with weak short strokes that he met with grinding the tip into your hip. </p><p>“That’s it,” he mumbled, shutting his eyes Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulders in a tender hug. “Good girl..” he said against your lips.</p><p>“You know how daddy likes it don’t you?” he groaned. “Just like I knew you would…”</p><p>His lashes fluttered, you tried to squirm away from his lips but he followed. Steve cradled your head in his hands, grinded harder into your grip, and moaned deeply. </p><p>Suddenly he jerked you away from the counter. Blues, now dark in the cabin, he pulled you toward a short patchy arm chair. He pushed your shoulders forcing you to set in it as he knelt down. Steve grabbed your thighs, pulling them apart and sliding you closer to his hips.</p><p>The bottom of your ass hung off the lip of the chair as Steve leaned forward while grabbing underneath the backs of your knees.</p><p>Steve brought your legs far back. “Be good and hold your legs open just like this,” he instructed, your thighs grazed against the wooden arms of the chair as you shut your eyes tight. </p><p>His breathing slowed when you felt him begin to rub. His thumb circled your clit at the same time you tried to slam your thighs shut. Steve pushed them back apart hard, he knocked them into the wood, physically insisting you stay still. </p><p>And when he continued, this time quicker another finger played with your entrance. </p><p>“You’re already a bit wet..” he uttered softly. </p><p>Still refusing to open your eyes, the feeling of something warmer, thicker than his fingers prodded at your slit. It pushed inside of you, at first gently, until you started to flinch from it.</p><p>Your hands flew to your face. “It hurts!” you cried out between your fingers.</p><p>“It’s big,” he chuckled under his breath. “-you’ll warm up honey.”</p><p>He forced his length into you, all the way to his balls. Steve’s hands returned to the back of your legs as he knelt there deep inside you.</p><p>He groaned again, hard, his hot muggy breath spread across your bare stomach. “I’m going to fuck you hard sweetheart.”</p><p>Steve gripped your flesh and pulled out of you before slamming back in. Your hands flew to his wrists, your hips twisted under him as he continued to invade. </p><p>“You’ll never forget this..” the words slipped from tight lips. He picked up the pace. He mumbled more, cursed lightly as your eyes opened to his image. </p><p>Steve’s head was tilted back, eyes open immersed in the feeling of defiling your body. Sweat dripped down his neck, down his chest. And as you followed the droplet make its way down the valley of muscles and hair, you stared at his abdomen. Steve, your stalker, let go of your legs, he yanked at your bra exposing your breasts for his consumption only. He gripped at the fabric, used it as more leverage and to pummel you further.</p><p>You pulled at his wrists again but it was useless with his ironclad grip. Eyes wide, mouth trembling you stared back at the eyes of Steve. </p><p>“That’s it,” he breathed. “You’re my–” he thrusted harder as you blinked with fright. “My good girl.”</p><p>“And you’re all mine.” he whispered.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>